


Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Chaps, Cosplay, Cowboy Hats, M/M, absolute self indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: “Hello, pardner. Took ya long enough,” he drawled.





	

Ocelot felt a uncomfortable queasiness every time he left the intel tower that day. The last thing he needed was some well-meaning bastard putting together a surprise party for the day his mother ripped him out of her womb to drop him into the Normandy mud.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to greet him in any way different than the usual. He was glad he’d squashed any intention of letting people know with Venom well in advance. Just another day. Coordinating the intel team on new leads. Terrorizing Huey. Visiting Quiet. Training D-ranks that couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. Trying to contact Miller, who was strangely noncommittal.

Wondering why Venom grinned from ear to ear every time he ran into him.

Once Ocelot was done with the day and returned to his quarters, he wondered no more.

As soon as the door to his quarters swooshed open, he was faced with a sight that would not leave him for a long, long time.

Kaz was lying on his bed, which in itself wasn’t that weird. Sometimes he stumbled in and fell asleep waiting for him.

But he was awake now. He was also mostly naked, aside from a red bandana, a large cowboy hat and.

Chaps.

Honest to god black leather chaps, with all the proper accoutrements; shiny buttons, gleaming buckles. _Fringes_.

Kaz grinned around a straw stalk that _lord only knew where he got in the middle of the ocean_ , and tipped his hat back to look at him. “Hello, pardner. Took ya long enough,” he drawled.

Ocelot swallowed, his pants suddenly uncomfortably tight. “What is this.”

“Snake told me something interesting a while ago.” He stretched languidly, and god, did he oil his chest? “I hear it’s a special day for you today.”

“Not any special than any other.”

Kaz ran his fingers up his shiny, glistening stomach. “I assumed you didn’t want celebrations. But there’s nothing wrong with giving you a present, is there.”

Ocelot licked suddenly dry lips. “What makes this a present?”

Kaz’s eyes were dark and hooded, even with the milky irises. “You think I don’t see you standing there about to nut your lucky sheriff boxers.”

“I don’t have lucky sheriff boxers.”

“C’mere.”

Ocelot stepped closer to the bed. There was nothing he could do to stop himself. “You know,” he whispered brushing the loose fringes where the chap ended emptily below the knee. “Real cowboys wore _pants_ under these.”

“Chaps’re for riding, _pardner_ ,” grinned Kaz, his cock hard and shiny against the black leather. “How are you gonna ride me if I’m wearing pants?”

“Your accent is terrible,” he croaked, squeezing Kaz’s knee, leather on leather.

“Look who’s talking.” Kaz took off his hat then, and plopped it on Ocelot’s head. “C’mon. Giddy up and all that.”

“You’re an _idiot_.”

“Hopefully an idiot you want to fuck, because man, I’ve been waiting here for an _hour_.”

Ocelot slowly unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers absolutely, definitely did not shake as he did so. “How long have you been planning this?”

“That’s a secret, cowboy.” Kaz grabbed him by the buckle of his belt, using it to pull himself to sit on the edge of the bed. His hair was a little flat from the hat. Ocelot ran his fingers into it. Kaz pressed his soft lips just below his navel, his tongue drawing lazy spirals in Ocelot’s sparse hair. At a hair tug from Ocelot, he made short work of his belt and fly. He was getting very good at doing things like this with his left, and Ocelot would have felt pride for his training if all his blood wasn’t currently flooding away from his brain.

He mouthed his cock out of his absolutely _not_ lucky sheriff boxers, wet and slow. He looked at him through his eyebrows. “Keep the boots on,” he murmured against his leaking slit.

Ocelot pushed him back with enough force to topple him onto the bed. Getting out of his boots to shimmy out of his pants and then putting them on again was ridiculous, yes, but he wasn’t the one with fucking _chaps_ on, here.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling Kaz’s waist, grinding against his exposed cock, leather creaking warmly under his ass. “Did you get this nice oil all over?”

“What do you _think_?” he snorted.

“What a good horsie,” whispered Ocelot, sliding down that slick shaft, reaching behind him to adjust it just right, slowly taking him in. “I wonder if I’ll have to tame you?”

Kaz gripped his hip and thrust up, hard, burying himself balls deep into him. Ocelot saw _stars_.

“Yee-haw,” laughed Kaz, thrusting fast and hard.

Ocelot tightened around the onslaught, leaning back to pin down Kaz’s thighs, trapping him. “I should be the one saying that.”

Kaz tried to thrust again, and Ocelot planted his spurs in his thighs. It couldn’t really hurt through the thick leather, but he stilled nonetheless.

“Hoo,” said Ocelot, riding him at his own pace. “Good boy.”

Kaz actually _whinnied_.

“Okay, this is getting a little weird now.” He straightened up, hand propped in the middle of Kaz’s chest. “And not to ruin the mood or anything, but you really don’t have horse endowments.”

“Never heard you complain, cowboy.” Kaz’s fingers dug into his hip hard enough to bruise. The fringes were tickling the inside of his thighs.

“You know,” said Ocelot airily, concentrating very hard despite the waves of pleasures ebbing in his gut every time Kaz’s cock brushed his prostate, close enough but never hard enough. “There’s actually theories that there might have been Asian cowboys in the wild West.”

“Oh really.”

“Most Asian immigrants were Chinese, but in Hawai’i there were - ah! - definitely enough Japanese immigrants to assume some must have been cowboys.”

Kaz thrust up a little faster, inching against his throbbing prostate. Almost there.... “Good. Wouldn’t want you to have a historically inaccurate boner.”

He pushed himself to sit up, and if the angle change didn’t undo Ocelot, looking at his scarred stomach tense and buckle under him almost did. And then he was grabbing his head and kissing him, hard and sloppy, and Ocelot was shuffling in his lap, his cock sliding against the warm and clammy leather, the thick head of Kaz’s cock nudging him _just right_ with every small thrust, and he was too far gone to even remember to say _yee-haw_ when he came with a choked whimper. Thankfully, Kaz didn’t forget when he followed him a few moments later.

“You’re still an idiot,” grumbled Ocelot, burning face tucked into Kaz’s shoulder. He tangled fingers in Kaz’s sweaty hair. “But darn if I ain’t happy you’re an idiot with me sometimes.”

“Happy birthday, pardner. Hope you enjoyed you present.”

“I dunno. I’d have to test how much easy access these chaps _really_ give me,” he grinned.

“Oh you’re on.”

Ocelot’s forty-first birthday was almost good enough to make up for the several weeks of Venom making fingerguns at him whenever he so much as looked at Kaz in his presence.

Almost.


End file.
